Only God Will Judge Us
by BWPR
Summary: "Always wanting what you can't have." Dylan laughed breathlessly, her panic setting in. This couldn't happen, he was a terrible man who had killed innocent people, she couldn't let herself fall back into him again. She couldn't do this again. "Yeah?" His accent mangled the word, but she still understood him perfectly.
1. Chapter 1

Hey! So this pairing has been nagging at me lately, so here I am.

This story follows the fight scene on the ship but has some deviations from the movie as things progress.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie's Angels or any of the characters.

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Dylan swore her heart stopped when she saw Seamus again.

Alex, Nat, and her had been on the ship stealing back the HALO rings from the O'Grady mob. She had even grabbed a bottle of expensive wine to celebrate the smooth mission. In the back of her mind though, she was considering the actions of the Thin Man at the Coal Bowl. He had seemed different from the last time they saw him (though to be honest they had considered him dead), not to mention that he saved Max. When they learned about him, about Anthony, she couldn't help the emotions that began to form in her heart. She began to yet again have affections for the bad guy, if you could consider him that. She just could relate to him in a way she hadn't previously thought. She hadn't had a real relationship for years, maybe it was time. As if summoned by her thoughts of potential happiness, Seamus appeared.

She heard his voice first, that voice which had drawn her in back in high school. She couldn't remember what he said in either instance, but she would never forget that voice. His accent was more pronounced now as it rang out in the silence, that only seconds before, had been filled with their laughter. There was a cold tone in his voice, ironic as it gave away his red hot anger.

Next she saw his body, that body which had protected her from the dark in the middle of the night. Though, considering how they had been, maybe he had really been shielding her from the light. Dylan's first instinct was to stare at the abs he had obviously been working on in prison, but then she realized just what she was doing. Even now she couldn't help but admire the body in front of her, despite it being that of her crazy, murderous ex. His eyes stared back into her own with an intensity she had almost forgotten. Seamus had lost his longer hair at some point in the last 8 years, but she must say this new look was doing wonders for him.

Dylan shook her head, now was no time to think about their past or how good he looked. He was talking, there was a fight in the short term future, and she didn't have her head in the game.

"Now, I've waited for you before. Matter of fact, I've waited for you 2,920 days. That's 417 weeks. That's 96 months. That's eight years. Enough about me. What about you, Helen? How have you been?" His words stunned her for a second. She didn't think he was that spiteful, to count the exact time he had been in jail. The sarcastic tone he used almost made it seem like he had hoped she would visit him after putting him in prison. But then again, when it came to Seamus, she romanticized everything. It may have been love once, but those times had long passed. He was obsessed with her, that much was obvious, but his obsession was more so with her death than her. His last comment was rhetorical, more a gibe than a question. She was Dylan now, and they both knew it. Helen had been his girl and had watched him commit murder without a word. Dylan had put him away.

"Seamus." She wasn't sure why his name slipped out of her mouth. He looked at her like he expected more of a reaction at his reappearance than shock. She wanted to say something, wanted to explain herself, but the words just wouldn't come out.

"I see you still got a nice arse on you. You got a lot of nerve coming here and stealing from me." She wasn't sure whether to be insulted or what. She chose to be insulted.

"Stealing back is more like it." There, that sounded like Dylan; courageous boarding on rebellious. Seamus began to walk towards them, and her internal panic increased with every step. He stopped 10 or so feet from them, cautious of an attack.

"Give us the rings." He extended his arm, clearly expressing his desire for her to willing hand him the rings. She couldn't believe he was asking instead of just using force. Well, not really asking but demanding, but still the point remained.

"Give us the rings." He was beginning to become impatient, she could tell by his tone. In her peripheral vision she could see armed mob members filing into the room. Still, she shook her head 'no'.

"Give us the rings!" His impatience gave way to anger, and his exclamation made her jump slightly. She scolded herself for letting her nerves get to her. With a glance to Alex and Natalie, she walked forward and held her hand with the rings forward. She shivered their hands met. He slid the rings off her finger, his hand deliberately touching her's. His dark eyes were locked with Dylan's during the entire process, and she couldn't bring herself to look away. It was a battle of wills, and she refused to lose to him, refused to show her fear. The hatred was evident in his guarded facial expression, the malice radiated off of him like a force.

She noticed him step back and hand the HALO rings to the henchman behind him. The henchman looked familiar, maybe Seamus had introduced her to his right-hand man at some point when they were together. Nat, her voice calm and snide, made a comment to the henchman. Dylan tried to pay attention, but she saw Seamus preparing to say something.

"I've been dreaming one day I'd get to see you again and watch you die." There was a pang in her heart as he said that, as he confirmed what she already knew.

"Keep dreaming." Alex replied sharply before kicking a piece of scrap metal into the light controls, sending them into a darkness that flashed with gunshots. They flipped over the first line of men, including him, and prepared. All she could hear was gunshots and the goons screaming for Seamus to do something. When the lights turned on unexpectedly she was momentarily blinded. She glanced over and saw him there with a wicked smile on his face, his eyes on her.

"You know I always like it with the light on." She blanched and hoped no one else had heard him, but a glance at Alex showed she had. With that they sprang into action, kicking ass as they went.

She had been mowing through the enemy rather quickly, 8 or 9 men laid around her in various conditions, when Seamus had appeared. She almost didn't see him because of how fast he was moving, the only thing that caught her attention was the light reflecting off the swords. He had them put together like a pair of gardening shears, and they were coming straight toward her neck. She bent backwards and focused on the fighting, not who she was fighting with. His next attack was low, allowing her to jump and deliver a double kick straight to his face. All she felt was adrenaline, fear, and a twinge of guilt. Within seconds of landing on her back she was in a defensive positions.

"You don't know me anymore." Dylan guessed that in a way she wanted to show him she wasn't Helen anymore. But she also needed a second to get her bearings, to think of a strategy. She had changed for the better, became strong enough to fight for herself.

"I'm the only one here that knows you." That certainly threw her for a loop, but there was no time to think it over. He separated the swords and brandished one in each hand. She dodged his attack and managed to get one sword away from him by stepping on it and kicking him, yet again, in the face. As he ran at her, one sword raised, she wondered when he learned how to fight like this. Did he always know how, or-

Their swords clashed and her attention was drawn to Seamus's face as he forced her back. He forced her sword to the ground and kicked her up and away from it. Once standing, he spun around to put all the possible force he could into a backhand to her face. She fell onto a chair that was behind her, and a henchman immediately was there to keep her down. As she put up her legs to keep some distance between her and Seamus, she wondered how she didn't notice him leading her into a trap. He came to a stop in front of her and just stood there for a second, looking into her eyes. Within the next second he had moved her legs aside and was delivering a right hook to her face. Her head whipped to the side and a small amount of blood flew from her mouth. In her dazed state, she vaguely wondered if he was holding back. That hit should have knocked her out.

She didn't notice the goon moving away, probably to go fight Nat, but she did notice the foot Seamus planted on her face. It sent her, and the chair, tumbling backwards. He was quick to grab her by her hair before she could get up, and throw her back against a metal crate. She moved her head out of the way of his next punch, and was amazed at the dent it left in the metal. He definitely didn't hold back that time. His hand was on her neck before she could block it, lifting her and strangling her at the same time. She was high enough that she could see over his head, though her eyes were drawn to his face yet again. It was emotionless, but when she met his gaze, it was like the flood gate had broken. His features morphed into a snarl, the veins on his neck more pronounced in his rage.

In a desperate attempt to free herself she brought her elbows down onto his face. He dropped her back onto her feet, and she only had a second opening to counteract. He used the momentum to spin around and drive an elbow into her back, sending her forward onto a crate. Then he was upon her. His hand latched itself upon her hip, and his pelvis pressed against her, effectively trapping her between his body and the crate. His other hand buried itself in her auburn hair and dragged her head up to almost lay on his shoulder. Her spine stretched backwards, but all she could feel was the heat of his body and his breath on the side of her face. They were both panting, though she could tell he had more stamina than her. She was getting more weak than she would care to admit.

"I've got to say, Helen, I've never wanted you more." His Irish accent made her shiver, and the amused tone in his voice almost made this seem like the good old days. She could feel arousal begin to set in and had to drag herself out of her thoughts.

"Always wanting what you can't have." Dylan laughed breathlessly, her panic setting in. This couldn't happen, he was a terrible man who had killed innocent people, she couldn't let herself fall back into him again. She couldn't do this again.

"Yeah?" His accent mangled the word, but she still understood him perfectly. He let go of her hair to grab the other side of her hip and turn her around to face him. Her hands automatically tried to find purchase on the crate that was now behind her and stop her fall as he picked her up by her knees. In that moment she found her back on the crate and Seamus between her legs. She tried to grab onto his shoulders and push him away, but he used his elbows to pin her arms down. His hands wrapped around her neck, but all she noticed was his face inches away from her's. A part of her was screaming at her to push him away, but another part of her was saying to let it happen. All her hands could reach was his chest, and she tried to push him away again. God those muscles felt wonderful flexing under her hands.

Then his lips violently crashed onto her's. The hands around her neck forced her closer to him, though they weren't strangling her. Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist, and one of her hands reached up to cup the side of his face. A part of her had missed tender moments shared with him. She could feel his side-burn, rough against her palm. She could smell his sweat and his natural scent, and it drove her crazy just as it used to. She almost kissed back, she couldn't help herself. It felt so good to have a kiss pressed upon her lips again, no matter who it was kissing her. The next second all her thoughts were scrambled as he slammed the back of her head on the crate. She looked back up and he was there again, inches from her face. His eyes were darker, and his pelvis was more tightly pressed into her's.

"I'll have you any way I want." She had to get away, he was too close and she was too afraid. Her mind and all her instincts were screaming at her to kick him away, he was dangerous. For a moment she thought of the Thin Man, Anthony, and the attraction between them. But it was nothing compared to Seamus. Anthony was slick as ice and twice as cold, except when he was screaming upon his conquest of hair. Her inattention was her fault. Seamus's mouth captured her's again; angry, rough, dominating, and everything that personified the person he really was. But still his hands did not strangle her, and this time, she couldn't stop herself from kissing back. If anything, it made him rougher, like he wanted to devour her. When his tongue entered the playing field, she was snapped back. Without thinking she used his detraction to push him away. Her legs found the gap between them and planted themselves onto his chest. By the time she had flipped to the other side of the crate and was standing, Seamus was standing on top of the crate. He seemed to be even more pissed if the kick to her face was any indication.

"I got the rings. Let's get out of here!" She barely heard Nat over the sound of her own blood pumping through her body. Seeing Seamus grab a hatchet finally got her moving. She began to crawl up the rope as fast as humanly possible. She felt the hatchet bury itself into the rope directly under her feet and couldn't help but wonder if he would really cut off her foot. From the look on his face, she deduced the answer was yes. Suddenly, she was flying upwards. Confused but thankful to be getting away from him, she went with it. Nat joined her next on their ride out of there, and Alex almost didn't make it. Seeing the roof approaching quickly, they flipped so they were hanging on upside down. Their feet met the wood and splintered it outward. Thinking fast, she followed Nat's lead and grabbed a flying piece of wooden board. They landed on a rope that conveniently took them off the ship. Landing on the pavement, she began to feel all her injuries with a vengeance. But she had to keep running.

They heard a thud behind them, but only she glanced back to see what it was. Crouched there on the ground was Seamus, who obviously just jumped off the side of the ship. She briefly wondered what kind of super human he must be to not break a bone from the impact. In a way it was kind of hot, but she shook that thought right out of her head. Turning a corner, they saw a fuel tank and thus a plan was formed. Alex got to the hose while Nat turned on the pump. Fuel formed an almost perfect line on the ground. Dylan grabbed her zippo lighter, the one Seamus had given her, and ignited the fuel. The fuel caught immediately, and the pyromaniac in her was memorized by the way it burned.

"Dylan! Let's go!" She began to follow after her fellow Angels. They were well ahead of her already. She turned back towards the fire to make sure they weren't being followed when a barrel exploded. She was sent sprawling onto her back. The cement tore at her already bruised and bloodied arms. Her breath was stolen from her, and her head was spinning. She looked up at the night sky and wondered why it was so hard to fall in love with a good guy. She had known Seamus was bad, just not how bad. She had thought Knox to be good, but it was just a facade. Anthony wasn't good or bad, but he was a killer for hire. And she had felt something for them all. She could feel a gaze on her, and she was afraid she knew who's gaze it was.

"You can't hurt me anymore, Helen." She sat up upon hearing his voice ring out, competing with the sound of the flames crackling. He was standing in front of the wall of flames, the sweat on his body catching the red-tinted light. He continued to walk towards her. She could see the hatchet in his hand and a glimmer in his eyes. He was almost half way to her now. She began to crawl backwards, unable to take her eyes off of him. He began to lessen his pace, and he threw the hatchet to the side. But still the distance between them got shorter and shorter.

"I never meant to hurt you, Seamus." What was it with her and words spilling from her mouth today? He finally stopped moving. His eyes met her's and she was astounded but the emotions that pass through them; hatred, anger, confusion, lust, and something that may have been love. But that was just her romanticizing again. He ignored her words and carried on.

"I'm gonna teach you and your friends about pain. I'm gonna kill them just so you can hear them scream." His words chilled her to the bone. It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on her, bucket and all. Dylan didn't know how, but suddenly she was up and running. She knew Seamus could have killed her then and there, but why did he have to drag Alex and Natalie into this? She jumped into the boat with the other two and acted as if everything was alright. She acted like she didn't have a past relationship with Seamus, acted like he didn't try and kill her, acted like he didn't just kiss her, acted like he didn't just threaten to kill her closest friends.

She was already planning on how to keep them safe.

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So there was chapter one! I know it follows very closely to the movie, but I hope my spin on things didn't make it just a rehash. As you can see, I started to deviate some parts already to fit better to my tentative story line. I hope you all enjoyed! Please review and tell me if I should continue, because for now I am unsure.


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, so I have finally got back to this story! Sorry for taking so long, but I kind of lost my motivation to write more.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie's Angels or any of the mentioned characters.

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Dylan stopped at a suspicious bar somewhere in Mexico, exhausted from her lack of sleep since leaving. After getting back to her apartment after the fight, she had immediately begun to pack her bags. She left Nat and Alex the clothes and shoes of theirs that she had never returned, and she hoped they wouldn't notice the dried tearstains on the note she wrote for them. And thus she ran away, making sure Seamus's men were tracking her and saw her leave. Since then she had been driving nonstop.

The bar looked ready to collapse, but she was desperate for a moment to relax. She almost started choking on the dust in the air when she walked inside, but she managed not to by some miracle. The light was dim, and when an old perverted man slapped her ass, she did nothing but glare at him. It frustrated her, but she calmed herself and took a seat alone at the end of the bar. Harsh sunlight fought against the dust and dirt on the window to shine inside, resulting in a dim halo effect. The bartender took her order, and by the time he finally returned, she had almost forgotten what she ordered.

She missed her friends, her partners, so much, but she knew she couldn't return now. All she could do is hope that Seamus left them alone in response to her giving up. Either that, or that he would take the bait and follow her. Nothing would work out well for her in any case, but they were worth it to her.

"Hello, Dylan. Don't you have a case to solve?" The soft voice next to her made Dylan jump, her head whipping to look at the person next to her. Agent Kelly Garrett lounged on the bar stool next to her, a smile on her face. She wanted to smile back, wanted to understand why this beautiful woman was talking to her, but she was just so tired.

"Well, I tried to outrun my past, but it caught up with me yesterday. And I put my friends in danger," was the best way she could explain herself. It was an honest answer, though it kind of omitted some details.

"They're in more danger now without you." Was she trying to make her go back? Didn't she see that it was all her fault in the first place? She knew that with Seamus leaving them alone, they would surely be capable of taking down the real mystery boss behind this all.

"Natalie and Alex are gonna replace me with someone great, a real Angel, not someone who's pretending to be something she's not." She was just the brawn of the operation who happened to be good at Scrabble, there was no hope for her. She could only drag them down.

"Your past is what makes you who you are, Dylan. Don't forget that Charlie chose you for a reason. Angels are like can't be made, you have to find them. Each one is unique. Sometimes we search too hard for answers that are right in front of us." And with that, she was gone. She understood why Charlie chose her, and she knew that she was unique, but she just wasn't the best person to be an Angel. She wasn't a hero. Her last words confused her, but she didn't dwell on them.

Her drink sat untouched in front of her, dust floating across the surface peacefully. She felt even more tired than before from talking to her own hallucination. But, she needed to keep moving. She had already lost major time in her escape, and she had no idea how far behind Seamus's men were now. They maybe weren't even following her at all.

She looked up and quickly realized it was later than she thought, the light from the window almost nonexistent now. A glance to the rest of the bar showed nothing but drunken men. Some were listening to the jukebox, whiskey in hand and a dark look on their faces. Others were casually sipping on their beers, relaxing in the presence of their buds. What disturbed her most was the few who had their dark eyes trained on her, looks of hunger on their faces. She quickly threw down money for her drink and stood up, though she swayed slightly from her exhaustion. The aches from her fight with Seamus were probably another factor, her back stiff and in agony. When some man smacked her ass this time as she walked out, she couldn't control her ire. She normally was against using her training on someone who was basically helpless, but she felt such satisfaction in watching him collide with the jukebox. Walking out of the bar as fast as she could without drawing further attention, she began to run to her car once out of the building.

Her 1969 Camaro SS had never looked so appealing to her as it did now. It had been with her throughout it all. She was thankful she had remembered to close the top, as she really needed the protection right now. It was colder outside, and it made her sore joints just that much more stiff. She was almost to her car when someone grabbed her by her hair. They were rather uncoordinated as they threw her to the ground, and it gave her the opportunity to roll back into a standing position. Looking at them, she found her attacker to be one of the men from the bar who had been watching her.

"You're quite the feisty one, huh? With what you did to my buddy back there. Why don't you just come here quietly, sugar?" He sounded like slime felt, and she almost began to hate him. She disliked his kind, having experienced this brand of asshole before. They made her sick, as they preyed on women weaker than them. She grew even more frustrated when he pulled out a small knife. She was exhausted, injured, and stiff. He was made of leaner muscle, meaning he was probably faster than her currently. He was taller and had a weapon. And unlike his buddy, he looked like he had been in quite a few fights himself from his posture. Things weren't looking too hot for her right now. If she screamed, he would probably try to kill her instead of capturing her. Her only chance was to get inside her car and get out of there. And if she didn't hurry up, she would basically be served on a platter to Seamus.

"I suggest you go back inside before I get involved." That Irish accent was unmistakable. Fuck. She turned to look and there he was, emerging from behind the bar. Of course he had already caught up with her, and of course it was Seamus himself. She was fucked either way now. He had a shirt on this time, blue and white plaid tight against his chest.

"I'm sorry, but if you hadn't noticed, this bitch is mine for tonight. Why don't you just go home buddy?" Why did he have to open his mouth? At least she wouldn't kill him, but she knew Seamus would be merciless. Seamus's poker face dissolved at those words. He looked pissed off and disgusted, that familiar snarl twisting his features. He looked like a wild beast. The man rushed at him, and she felt dread sit heavily on her shoulders.

"Stop! He'll kill you!" The guy glanced back at her, moderately confused, and in that time Seamus managed to plant a boot in his chest. He seemed to fly backwards, and she could tell he probably had a few broken ribs. They looked at her at the same time, the guy pleading for help and Seamus rubbing her own powerless in her face with a demented smile. It was the same smile from the first time she saw him kill a man, that look that claimed he was innocent of the blood staining his hands. She watched seemingly in slow motion as he pulled out a gun. She had to stop him, had to be able to save someone this time. She was Dylan Sanders, a fucking Angel, afterall.

"Seamus! Don't do it! He doesn't deserve this!" He seemed to freeze, gun pointed straight at the man's head. His head whipped to the side to face her and the look in his eyes was too intense to be a good thing.

"He was about to kidnap you and rape you, and still you defend him, Helen?" He scoffed, seemingly tired with her foolishness. "Would you trade his life for your own then? He's fucking slime."

That made her pause in her panic for a second, though his tone had been borderline sarcastic. She didn't know this man, hell, she probably even hated him on some level. But she couldn't allow anyone to die, not again. She was only human, and who was she to decide someone's fate like that? But on the other hand, this was Seamus.

"Helen!" His impatience was shining through again, and his sudden bark made her jump. The sharp movement made her wince in pain, and he seemed to almost take pride in being the reason behind her discomfort.

"Yes." All it took was one word and her own fate was seemingly sealed. He didn't put away his gun, but he lowered it. He turned completely to face her, a slight look of disbelief on his face, and in instinct she began to back away. The guy on the ground was unable to get up, and could only shuffle backwards as he watched his would-be murderer walk away.

That expression was on his face again, the one from when they were fighting. The hatred and betrayal was there, along with confusion and a hint of lust. Suddenly the back of her knees met the hood of her car, her legs collapsing under her. And then he was there in front of her. He towered over her now, and she was honestly terrified of him in that moment. He used the hand not holding the gun to strangle her, pushing her down onto the hood. It was like a mirror of before with the crate, but this time she really couldn't fight back. She weakly clawed at his hand and arm, but the scratches seemed to have no affect on him. Black spots were appearing in her vision, and oh god she was going to die right here and now. Her movements were becoming weaker and weaker, and she couldn't do anything. Her body wasn't listening to her, just desperately trying to get air. Suddenly, the pressure on her neck was gone and there was hand holding the back of her head. Lips met hers, angry and aggressive and almost desperate.

She felt like she was floating, accepting his kiss and still lightheaded from before. She didn't know if she was pulling or pushing, but his body managed to come even closer to hers. The hood of the car was cold against her back, and he was so warm in contrast, though just as solid and cutting. She had missed this, as wrong as it was. She had missed his passion, his warmth, his rebellious soul, and even the intensity of his eyes. But she would never admit to kissing him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, or moving against him, with him. She was Dylan Sanders, and she wasn't that weak. She couldn't afford to be. And then he stopped. He leaned away slightly and just looked at her, and in that moment she realized she was crying. He didn't do anything but watch her, and she began to feel sick for allowing this to happen. What was wrong with her? And then he whispered to her.

"I'll have you any way I want." He repeated what he had told her before on the ship, and only now did she believe him. She couldn't stop him if she wanted. There was a whimper that broke the silence. Seamus stood up straight, dragging her with him. Seated as she was, she could see the man from the bar trying to crawl up the steps into the bar. He was holding his ribs with one hand, the other trying to hold him up.

"I had almost forgotten about you." Her blood ran cold, and she looked at Seamus, only to see him looking at the man. It wasn't until his gun was pointed at the man and a bullet was leaving it that she understood what was going on.

"No!" But it was too late. Seamus's aim was deadly, and the man had gone silent and motionless. He smiled at her, and she tried not to throw up. He was a monster. Without thinking, she raised her hand and slapped him. His body tensed against hers, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

"You are nothing but a murderer," she mumbled. She didn't want to look up at him, didn't want to get caught back up in him. The palm of her hand stung, and, with that twinge of pain, her other aches seemed to come back with a vengeance.

"Last time I checked, you have quite the body count too." It was a warning if she had ever heard one. And wow if that didn't cut deep.

"I protect people from assholes like you. This is my job, this is who am I." She finally looked up, meeting his eyes defiantly. She suddenly realized how foolish she had been to leave her friends, to abandon her position. She didn't even have time to register the emotions on his face before the handle of the gun was connecting with the side of her head. It sent her sprawling off the car and into the dirt. She saw him stomp towards her before losing consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

So I'm back after a year of not writing, woops. Enjoy chapter 3 those who stuck with this story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie's Angels or any of the mentioned characters.

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Dylan woke up slowly, gradually taking in her current state and her location. She remembered being knocked out and was filled with apprehension at what she might wake up to.

She was moving, could feel the road passing underneath her. So she was in a vehicle. She could hear the soft buzz of a radio and smell leather and something musky but pleasant. There was no light, and she didn't feel a blindfold, so it was definitely late at night or early morning. She was so warm and comfortable, and knew that moving would only aggravate her injuries and sore muscles. So she stayed still, finally opening her eyes.

She was laying across the backseat of her Camaro, with no doors available for her to open and jump out of. Smart move. But she felt a twinge of annoyance at someone else driving her car. Her ankles and wrists were tied tightly, but not enough to cut off circulation. But well enough that she couldn't just untie herself. There was a coat draped on top of her like a blanket. So that's why she was warm.

Seamus sat in the driver seat, eyes forward and fingers tapping out a beat on the steering wheel. This was the most calm she had seen him since that night when he blew the opposing mob member away 8 years ago. She zoned out staring at the back of his head, considering her options. She could make him lose control of the car and hope that she would be fine in the resulting crash. She could try and get to her cell phone in the trunk with the rest of her belongings. She could try and get her gun out of the glove box or center console. Anything she did though would be risky. She looked into the rear view mirror only for her eyes to lock with his.

There was a sense of dread settling into her stomach now. He knew she was awake, and from the surprised look on his face, he hadn't expected her to be aware so soon. And now any plan she tried to pull off would be twice as challenging. She was surprised when instead of doing anything, he just grunted and moved his focus back to the road. Well then. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? She was kidnapped, yes, but she currently didn't feel threatened.

The song "Living on a Prayer" began to play, and her mind flashed back to singing along with Seamus in his car and making out. She had felt so rebellious and alive in those moments, so content. Her home life had sucked hard, and he had been her salvation, though he quickly showed his true colors as her damnation. For the first time since she saw him murder a man in cold blood, she kind of missed Seamus. Not just his body or his kisses but the man himself.

"Why?" The word, that vague question, was out of her mouth before she knew she was even speaking, his eyes darting back to meet her's again in the mirror. She took a moment to appreciate his reflexes, though she guessed that's what jail could do to you. He seemed to truly consider his answer before barking out a cruel laugh.

"Why didn't you keep your mouth shut? Why did I trust you? Why did I get thrown in jail and forgotten?" He was so bitter, and it got to the point where it seemed like the words were venom. She physically recoiled slightly, her eyes breaking from his to stare out the window. When she had gone to the police and gotten placed in the witness protection program, she hadn't looked back once. Hadn't expected to ever face this monster again. So she had never thought to prepare for this moment. And she certainly had never thought she would ever be second guessing herself on this.

She stayed still and silent for a few minutes before glancing up. His jaw was now clinched, and his knuckles were turning white from gripping the wheel so hard. Looking at this man, she couldn't believe who he was. He used to be her lover, used to be the dork who would sneak her out and take her to shady drive-in's. But he was also the man who was in charge of the O'Grady mob. He was the man whose hands were tainted with the blood of so many. Max's parents, that man who was shot in cold blood, etc. had lost their lives under this man's orders, because she had no doubt he continued running the mob even while in prison.

She had never missed Nat and Alex as much as she did right now. She had finally realized the danger they were in, having time to start connected the puzzle pieces. And she couldn't believe how selfish she was to just leave them like that, to question how much they cared for her compared to everyone else in their lives. Anthony crossed her mind briefly, those cold blue eyes and that even colder saber. And while she yearned to talk to him, to get to know him, to possibly help him use his abilities for the right reasons, she barely felt anything romantic anymore.

"It was Madison Lee who gave you the information, right?" She needed to confirm her suspicions. She needed to know what they were really dealing with. Seamus's eyes returned to hers, and she saw in his body language all the answer she needed.

"Does it matter, Helen? If she doesn't kill your friends first, then I will." There was a shark's smile on his face, one that spoke of bloodlust and violence. At this point, she really didn't know who was more dangerous, Madison or him. But either way she would protect her friends. She needed to get moving and going to them, needed to get her ass kicking face on. But first she needed to get away from him.

When his eyes left hers, she spun around on the backseat so her legs were facing the back window, her body in a crunch so her head wouldn't be too close to the front seat. She began to kick at the window, happy as hell she was wearing boots and not heels or barefoot. She could hear Seamus cursing and feel his hand pulling her hair as he tried to gain purchase. But she couldn't let herself be distracted now. Alex and Nat couldn't afford her slacking off any longer.

She was suddenly thrown forward into the front seat when the brakes were applied harshly. Dazed from the collision, she wasn't prepared for the elbow that ruthlessly came down on her stomach. Or the punch that landed on the side of her head. A new plan in motion, she pretended to go unconscious again, though in truth she wasn't very far off after that last hit. She could hear Seamus panting and hear his mumbled curses as he drove just far enough so the car was now on the side of the road. Inside of immediately getting out, he just sat there. This lack of motion concerned her, and she began to worry that he knew she was aware. She had to keep herself from tensing in the anticipation of an attack.

"You just had to make things hard, didn't you, Helen, you bitch." His voice was muffled as though he had his hand over his mouth, though the anger wasn't hard to miss. He got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. She could hear the crunch of gravel under his shoes as he moved to the front of the car. She could hear rustling and then a snap, the sounds of someone lighting a cigarette. When a glance showed him sitting on the front end of her car, looking away from her, she slowly began moving into the driver's seat. Seamus, that fucker, had turned off the car and taken the keys with him. So she would have to hot wire her own car before he was done with his cigarette, all while her hands were bound and without alerting him of what she was doing. Great.

While busy, she off-handedly wondered why he hadn't killed her yet. It would've been easier, quicker. Was he really this determined to make her pay? Hell, why did he even go as far to stop that guy before a fight could start and to cover her with a coat? She looked up to find Seamus turning around just as she was almost done.

They made eye contact, and though he didn't seem surprised to see she was awake, his eyes seemed to dare her to try and escape. There was a tense moment in which he just stood there in front of the car, cigarette forgotten, and she just sat there, the wires inches away, one in each hand. The moment he took a step, she let the wires meet. Her car started up with a wonderful roar and she was throwing the car into gear just as he was about to punch out her window. Instead, his punch met the moving side of her car, scraping his knuckles raw. As she drove off, which was difficult with her bound ankles, she watched him chase after the car as far as he could. He made one jump for the car before it got too far from him. For a moment she was worried he had managed to get a grip, only to see him in the rear view mirror, getting up from the ground. She was too far away to see his expression from here, but she could see his phone pressed against the side of his face, him yelling at whoever was on the other end to surely come get him.

After passing a sign that allowed her to get her bearings, she got a plan going for how to meet back up with her Angels.

* * *

Holy shit, remind her to never get shot again, even if there was a Kevlar vest protecting her. The whole falling off the building thing may have also been a factor. She still couldn't believe how Madison Lee had known she was there. Maybe Seamus had called her, though that wasn't his style. She looked over to see Nat and Alex in a similar state of discomfort, picking the bullets out of where they were lodged in their vests. Though she still felt guilty, they could address the whole her leaving thing later after kicking some ass.

After sorting through the clues they had gathered while she was off on her road trip, and Natalie possibly showing signs of a concussion, they set up their plan to have the mobs arrested and to take down Madison Lee. But damn, did it actually have to include her seeing Seamus again so soon?


End file.
